


Swear Me No Oaths But One

by lushthemagicdragon



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Handfasting, I don't even know who I am anymore really why did I write this, M/M, Secret Marriage, This is extremely sappy and soft, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lushthemagicdragon/pseuds/lushthemagicdragon
Summary: On the last evening in Aman, Findekano and Maitimo disappear into the Garden of Lorien for a moment of private devotion before the trials ahead.





	Swear Me No Oaths But One

They took to their horses on the eve of their leaving for the shore. They bridled the pair themselves, leaving the stable boys to rest before the long ride ahead. No one need know of their passing, across the fields with packs full of candles and cloth. Findekano took the lead with great intent, directing the horses while Maitimo kept eyes around to see if they had been spotted or followed; The last ride of Findekano and Maitimo through the lands of Aman.

The whole thing had been Findekano’s idea to begin with, ever one to take wild notions and bring them into fruitful reality by the sheer power of his will alone. Laying together in their distant privacy, still within earshot of Macalaure’s singing, they stared up at the sky above and mulled over the bitter agreement between their fathers. Maitimo spoke with calm confidence, the tongue of a son raised for diplomacy, a boy who weathered a father’s temper alongside the rambunctious behavior of six brothers and more cousins alike. He spoke of the journey across the sea, of the provisions they would need and the hardships they would face. He spoke of soft beds they would sacrifice for their freedom, and Findekano watched him parse Feanor’s words with his own brand of rational thinking. Findekano watched, he listened, he turned onto his side to face his cousin when he had heard enough dancing around the issue that concerned him most.

“But you don’t want me to come with you.” 

Maitimo hesitated, his lips tightening in the way they always did when he struggled to find just the right words for how he felt about a matter of great importance. 

“I never said that. I would never say that.” 

“You didn’t need to. I think I know by now when you’re trying to be self-sacrificing for what you believe is best.”

Again Maitimo was quiet, his eyes fixed on the sky above, the clouds that passed with gentle ease. 

“Neither of us know what waits for us across the sea. None of us know beyond Grandfather’s stories, and with him gone, we have only the idea of wilderness and our own power of will to guide is.” 

“If you’re going to imply that I’m weak willed Maitimo--”

“I think you are so strong willed that you will go head-first into any danger that approaches, believing wholly that doing what is right will keep you safe from harm.” 

“And am I not allowed a choice in this?” 

“Fino…”

“Look at me, Maitimo.” 

Maitimo did as he was told, and Findekano met that stubborn concern in his lover’s eyes and the tension in his jaw with a stubbornness of his own; an assured security in his convictions. Findekano smiled, and he brushed a strand of hair back behind Maitimo’s ear. 

“I will not tell you that I will be anything but myself. I will not tread carefully and linger behind while others fight my battles for me. I’m reasonably sure that you love me for who I am, not for some far off idea that I could be anyone else. Am I wrong?” 

Maitimo chuckled with a gentle shake of his head. “I love you for everything that you are.” 

“Then how could you possibly believe that I would stay behind? I would fade if I were to remain. I would become a shadow of myself without our family, without purpose, without _you_. I would follow you to the ends of the world.” Findekano reached out to hold Maitimo’s cheek in his hand, and his thumb stroked the gently freckled cheek beneath it. “You are a part of me as if I were your husband or your wife. I would marry you if that would convince you to dismiss the idea that I would be anywhere but by your side and in your confidence.” 

Maitimo’s hand joined Findekano’s upon his cheek, his jaw relaxing under affection. 

“You know as well as I do that our fathers would never allow it.” 

“They wouldn’t need to know.”

“You’re not serious.” 

The trees in the Garden of Lorien twinkled brighter with fireflies, made visible by the shadow of the wood. The choice of location had been hard thought and discussed. They could not do this by traditional means and still remain secret. No, not under the eyes of Varda and Manwe, nor in the halls of Tulkas and Nessa. To do this in the home of Irmo and Este, though, was a promise of something quieter and deeper than some raucous ceremony. They tied their horses to a tree and made their way, hand in hand and off the path towards the house of healing. Around they went to the other side of the lake, hidden from the view of any healers that might be awake by the island itself. 

What would Feanor say if word of their actions were to get back to him from the woods where Miriel lay to rest? What would Fingolfin say of his son’s boldness, on the eve of fragile truce? Findekano found a spot for them upon the shore of the lake where only the eyes of the Valar themselves could see and witness. Stones laid in a circle, packs of candles empties and lit between stone and pebble. Findekano plucked flowers gently from the trees to place between each candle, each stone, and in his focus he missed Maitimo doing the same. Maitimo caught him off guard at his work, sliding a single blossom behind one ear, and another into a braid. 

“If we’re going to disturb Irmo’s rest with our secrecy then you may as well look the part of a bridegroom.” 

Findekano laughed, and flowers found their way wound into Maitimo’s hair as well, and in between Findekano’s golden ribbon and dark locks. Within a button-hole, hooked playfully in a belt buckle. It was perhaps too many flowers taken in the night, but the lovers laughed quickly between kisses, and Findekano lead Maitimo by the hands into the circle they had made. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

Hands squeezed together before Findekano brought forth a sash from his pack. There had been no time to have one made for the occasion. There would be no elaborate embroidery befitting the House of Finwe, no ceremony beyond their circle of light and stone and earth. Only a sash plucked from Aredhel’s wardrobe, in the colours of both families. Findekano began to sing as he wrapped their left hands together. That soft wedding melody often carried by more voices than one. With no chorus to sing for their vows, harmony came only when Maitimo joined in. Findekano’s tenor and Maitimo’s baritone rang together as only music could, with spirit and soul in every word and note that passed from lovers lips. With left hands tied Findekano took up the edge again and.

Stopped.

“Fino.” 

“Don’t say it.” 

“How are you going to finish this exactly with one hand?” 

Maitimo did his very best not to chuckle at the glare he received, and at the dedication with which Findekano approached this problem. Findekano tied the sash around both of their hands loosely, tucking the edge and, with the bite of his teeth, pulled the edge tight. 

“That should do.” Findekano remarked proudly, testing the strength with a gentle tug of his right hand. Not too much tugging and the thing would stay for the time being. “It seems that I have a gift for working one-handed. Should anything happen to my left I think I would do just fine.” 

“You would be wasted without both of your hands, Fino.” 

“You never know, I could learn to nock an arrow with my teeth.” 

“I would rather you never had to.” 

The trees smelled so richly of their flowers. The ones still attached to their trees and those entwined in their hair, surrounding the lovers as they smiled. They had not learned yet in their youthful innocence of Thingol and Melian across the sea, and yet the trees seemed to speak to them like visions. The forest home of Irmo spoke words of devotion across the sea that they could not yet comprehend, of trials weathered and burdens carried in the bonds of love. So heavy the heart would seem to Irmo without Este to bring the ever present calm of trust. 

“I feel as if I could sleep, rest here for eternity with you, just as we are in this moment.” Fidekano’s hands squeezed Maitimo’s under the fabric bonds of matrimony. Maitimo leaned in to press a gentle kiss upon his lover’s cheek, lingering for a moment in their closeness. 

“Best that we not let Irmo lure us from our duties then, for I would have you for every day to come and not only for a moment in the woods.” 

Crickets chirped their melodies and fireflies lit their circle. The witnesses had come. Onto them Este smiled. Maitimo continued.

“I have always known that I would need to marry. It is my responsibility, as it is yours, to father sons and daughters in the lines of our fathers and our mothers. I have known this my whole life, but no wife or mother of children has ever driven my passions. None, when there was you. You who grew from presumptuous child to presumptuous adult before my eyes and insisted on being known. You who have known my mind and my heart above all, who has put words to the most difficult of thoughts and action to the most difficult of struggle. You who has supported me and and whom I would keep by my side through all trials that await us across the sea. The responsibilities will come. I will need wife and child, and in the eyes of our people I will need marry as responsibility sees fit, but you will always be first. If this must be our secret then our secret it will remain into the end of all things. I worry on what is to come, and in true form you have taken my worry and turned it into hope. Findekano I will love you through any and all things, of this you have my solemn oath. Without you I am nothing.” 

The trees rustle and in the calm of Este’s smile the oath worries none but the trees themselves.

“Do not swear such an oath to me Maitimo, without me you are as vibrant as you are now. You are the star in my sky and light of my life, and in your eyes I see the very best of us. You who have carried the weight of the family upon your shoulders and who would cross the seas to carry the weight of our people in their entirety without hesitation. You are _good_, my love, and I will see you through to your very best by your side. What responsibility could possibly tear me from you? None. We shall go across the sea together and we shall do our very best, together. Never go far from me and you shall never come to harm. I will love you with my everything and no great sea, no great unknown could keep me from you.” 

“You speak in definites as if you know what is to come.” 

“I need not know what is to come to know you, and to know myself.” 

Findekano raised onto his toes to snatch Maitimo’s lips with his own, without the assist of his hands. His kiss spoke its own oath, of love and devotion. With foreheads pressed together they sang in gentle breathes the marriage vows, in the presence of the trees. They laughed as they untangled themselves from their handfast and retangled themselves with one another for a short while. There would be no worry here, hidden away from the oncoming storm, in the eye of the calm. 

Their burdens could wait a few short hours, for what was the point of worrying when one was loved?


End file.
